


Realizations

by AshsHorrorShow



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, Realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshsHorrorShow/pseuds/AshsHorrorShow
Summary: There are some things one is just better off not knowing. Edward learns that the hard way.





	Realizations

Edward Nygma looked at the images in his hands, swallowing thickly. Part of him wondered if he was being played for a fool right now, like the photos had been tampered with somehow. But they couldn’t of been. He had checked the bug he had used to get the info three times over, making sure that no minute detail hadn’t been changed or rewired. What he was seeing was real.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

Edward, of course, had always had his suspicions. After all, he knew the Batman had to be rather rich, or at least _attached_ to someone who was rich, in order to have the armor and gadgets he had. Edward knew from experience; tech wasn’t cheap. And unless the Batman was being an utter hypocrite to his message of opposing crime and all of that typical vigilante crap and pilfering materials, then he had to be shilling out billions, or at least, millions in order to get more and more tech seemingly every mission and to get it all repaired.

Since he had long since established that the Batman had to be someone rich, he looked at the list of billionaires. There was only a few billionaires stupid enough to live in Gotham City. 

And only so many who were as ripped as Bruce Wayne.

Edward had kept his eyes out on the man… but some part of his mind never seemed to think that the Bruce Wayne being Batman theory was truly possible. Or maybe, his mind didn’t _want_ to think of it as being possible. 

After all, he had _met_ Bruce Wayne, personally, only a few months before his first stint as the Riddler. He had been invited to one of Bruce Wayne’s three million charity galas. It hadn’t been that glamorous of a meeting, or, at least, nothing too exciting. The two of them had shook hands in greeting at the opening, and after a while of just milling around talking to random strangers, he decided to find Wayne and strike up conversation. He figured he might as well get a feel down for the guy. After all, having one of the most power and influential men in all of Gotham as an acquaintance would probably benefit him more than it would hurt. 

However, during the short chat, Edward had found Bruce Wayne to be quite disappointing.

Don’t get him wrong, Bruce Wayne came off as a nice enough guy, though it seemed like a trained sort of likability. Like he was an actor going through the motions of a conversation. Edward could practically read the commands going through his mind. Smile and nod when someone told a personal anecdote. Give a small laugh whenever appropriate. Feed and encouraging line or two to show the person you are truly listening and actually give a damn about anything they were saying.

But he supposed fakeness was an inevitability in celebrity life. And even though he could see that some of Bruce Wayne’s boyish charm was clearly artificial, the man seemed nice… though a bit too dense and naive for Edward’s taste, and entirely too much of a goody-two-shoes. 

All Edward did was tell one dark joke and Bruce Wayne was making some sort of comment. 

Edward could tell nearing the end of the conversation, although Bruce Wayne was still keeping cordial, that he wanted to go. Things like that tended to happen with Edward when he met new people. He was one of those types one either loved or hated and it definitely seemed like his charms weren’t working with Bruce Wayne.

So Edward had snipped the conversations, feeling quite disappointed that Bruce Wayne had been so predictable. Just a typical, fake, generous rich person. 

And that idiot was the one wearing the suit? The one who had undermined Edward time and time again? The one who had beaten him to the floor until he was black and blue? The one who was standing in his way? The one who solved all of his riddles and tricks was just a billionaire playboy. 

He realized he was holding the picture much too tight and he eased his grip. He couldn’t just crush evidence, no matter how frustrating. Yeah… he could see now, why his mind had never wanted to accept it. The humiliation alone was overpowering. He wanted so hard to deny it. He really did. He wanted this to be a trick. A dirty trick… but it wasn’t. It was real and he was going to have to face it. He ran a hand through his hair and grit his teeth, resisting the urge to smash the table in front of him into a million fucking pieces.

Amidst all of the emotions stewing within him - anger, sadness, hate, humiliation - he also felt a sense of disappointment. Of course, that would be natural, given the nature of the news, but this disappointment felt like it was for something different. He desperately tried to search his feelings, trying to get to the root of it… but he couldn’t place it. 

“So now you know,” a deep voice suddenly said, cutting in from the dark. 

Edward nearly leaped out of his skin, nearly falling over in the process, only managing to catch himself by placing a hand on his table. Whirling around, he saw the Batman standing in the middle of the room. He was so used to the Batman making showy entrances, like smashing through windows or glass, that he sometimes could forget that the man was actually quite good at stealth, especially given how heavy that armor was no doubt heavy. 

Edward looked at him in surprise, “How did you-” He had an alarm system that was supposed to read heat signatures. If anyone even approached this location, it was supposed to make a noise to warn him. But he supposed it was stupid to wonder what happened. Batman no doubt had a tool that helped him out with that. Shaking his head, Edward decided instead to just bristle and hiss, “What are you gonna do, _Wayne_? Kill me?” 

Probably not the smartest thing to come out of his mouth, seeing as the man in front of him probably had the power to kill him if he so wanted to, or at the very least, knock him into a coma. Sure, he had that little moral code, but maybe to protect his identity he was willing to break it just this once. It wasn’t like he and Edward had the best of relationships, after all. However, Edward found he didn’t care at this point. He said what he said, and honestly, with this revelation in place, a part of him almost did want the Batman to just finish him off, if only to save him the humiliation.

Batman - _Bruce Wayne_ \- didn’t say anything, infuriatingly enough. Edward felt his teeth clench. Glaring vehemently, he said, “How did you even know, anyways? I got all the bugs. They hadn’t been touched.” The only way Wayne could get access to the information he used was if he had found his network and- 

Suddenly, Edward solved that little mystery. How much of an idiot was he for not double-checking that. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he raised his hand to silence Wayne. He wasn’t sure if the man was actually going to explain how he had managed to find the location or not, but if he was, Edward didn’t need his stupidity repeated to him. He was already feeling low enough tonight. “Whatever, you know what. I figured it out. It doesn’t matter. Just tell me what are you planning on doing, Wayne? Beating me up and putting me in Arkham like always? Locking me away in the Batcave? Killing me? Giving me some of that fortune of yours-”

“That depends on what you’re planning to do with the information, I suppose,” the Batman’s deep voice said, causing Edward to jump. But no, that deep voice was just a voice changer. _Bruce Wayne_ said, “You _are_ planning on telling people, right?”

Edward opened his mouth to say he was indeed. And it didn’t matter if Bruce Wayne grabbed the photos out of his hand and ripped them to shreds. It didn’t matter if he destroyed that network. Edward was at least smart enough to save the information any place he could. It was too valuable to just give away. The only thing Bruce Wayne could do was hold off the inevitable for a while… but Edward could get it out at any point. He could send the pictures to all of Gotham if he wanted. However, he couldn’t find himself agreeing immediately for some reason. Why this was, he didn’t know… 

Did he not want to let the world know that he had been beaten countless of times by Bruce Wayne?

Maybe that was part of it. But there was still something wrong. That wasn't all of it. It wasn’t the whole piece of the puzzle. 

Once again, before Edward could mull things over in his mind, Bruce Wayne continued, “In fact, you don’t seem very happy with the information you found at all, Edward.”

Edward felt a flare of indignation shoot through him. How dare the man act smug when Edward had him trapped in a corner. 

“Of course, I am happy with this news, Wayne. Just a little work from me and I could ruin your whole life. Your whole purpose of life would be over. Your life, as you know it would end. Then, I, the Riddler, will have the credit of having taken down the Batman, something the Joker or Ra’s al Ghul or anyone else cannot claim! I will have won!”

This was all true. So why? Why was he still not believing his own words.

Edward knew it was just his imagination. The mask didn’t allow for much emotion to be expressed through them. All they were was a bunch of glowing lights. But he swore, he saw a look of pity almost cross the Batman’s features as he looked at him, and the thought made him mad. He was not to be pitied!

He felt tempted to throw something, but he resisted the urge, knowing the Batman would just dodge whatever he threw anyways. Bruce Wayne continued, “And what then? What will you do after you win this “game”, so to speak, Edward?” 

Edward jerked back, surprised by the question. Was he just baiting him to talk, just for one of the Robins to do the window smashing trick and beat him up? But he already resigned he won, beating or not, so he said, “When I win? Well, of course I will-” 

Then he paused. What _was_ he going to die once he put an end to the Batman? Commit more crimes? What crimes? Was he just going to have to fight the Justice League, who no doubt were probably even more challenging foes, seeing as they had powers? Deal with any embittered rogues who would no doubt he got the claim? Was he just going to live comfortably? 

He wasn’t sure. Where _was_ he going to go from there? Edward’s eyes widened. Had he really not planned his life this far ahead? What did he even want from there? He wasn’t exactly sure. 

Then suddenly, it hit him. The disappointed feeling, again. And this time, he knew why it was there.

The Batman was infuriating. He was an idiot who only got what he wanted from beating it out of people. He just destroyed and hurt, like so many others in Edward’s life. But Batman, at the very least, kept him motivated. Every time he was in Arkham, every time he was out of Arkham, he tasked himself with defeating the Batman. And every single time he thought he had the perfect invention, the Batman or one of his Robins managed to wreck it and he would be sent back to Arkham. There, he would come up with a new plan, an even better, more complicated one, and then he would escape and the cycle would repeat.

And in a way, it benefitted Edward. In a way, the Batman forced him to become better. It forced him to become smarter, wiser… to feel shame. But it also wrecked him in a way. How much of his life had he wasted away simply trying to kill the Batman or reveal his identity? Probably a scary long time.

And now, he had the final piece. The checkmate, if you will to the whole game. He could end it all.

But then where would he be? 

What would he do? 

He didn’t know. 

Suddenly, the satisfaction of victory didn’t seem as satisfying as he thought it would be. In fact, all it seemed was empty and terrifying. This was not the feeling Edward wanted to go with this.

This was not what Edward wanted at all.

Could he even continue this game? All the mystery was gone. He knew who the Batman was. Sure, he could have the satisfaction of capturing him and finishing him off, but it would all lead to the same conclusion. 

With the Batman gone, he didn’t know what to do with himself… and most of the options he had already gleaned, lead him back to the same place he was before… constantly having to defeat enemies and spend hours of his life building contraptions. Vigilantes and villains crawled out of the woodwork all the time. There was no shortage of them. He would be constantly having to face one person after another.

The thought made Edward suddenly feel numb. 

Bruce Wayne seemed to sense this. Coldly, he turned away and said, “Do what you want with the information, Edward. I can’t stop you. But I would also think about your own life, for once.”

Then with that, the Batman left the room. Edward made no moves to stop him. 

He just looked at the photo in his hand numbly before he tossed it into the nearest trash can and slumped to the floor and wept.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk this popped out of nowhere in my head and I decided to jot it down. I guess it came from the idea that Edward wouldn't know what to do with himself after he beat Batman and kind of just stemmed from there.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!!! <3 
> 
> As always, critique is wanted and if you see a mistake, feel free to point it out and I will fix it up immediately. 
> 
> Have a great day!


End file.
